


Help You Through

by writingonpostcards



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Episode: s04e05 I.E.D., F/M, Gen, Post-Episode: s04e05 I.E.D.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-23
Updated: 2014-07-23
Packaged: 2018-02-10 02:50:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2008173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writingonpostcards/pseuds/writingonpostcards
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lydia gets out of her car with no idea where she is. What she does know is that she’s going to find a dead body in the house she’s standing in front of. So when she rings the doorbell and someone opens it she realises she’s done something new. Found the person before they’re dead. </p><p>It's Deputy Jordan Parrish. </p><p>He’s on the dead pool and Lydia knows something bad is coming for him. Tonight. But Jordan doesn’t know anything about Beacon Hill’s supernatural underbelly, doesn’t know why he’s on a list of supernatural creatures when he’s just a human, so Lydia spends the night keeping him safe and introducing him to the world of werewolves, werecoyotes, Banshee’s, kitsunes and hunters.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Help You Through

**Author's Note:**

> This work takes place after the events of I.E.D. (season 4 episode 5)
> 
> Thanks to my wonderful sister Blinded_By_The_Light for proofing this for me.

Lydia is standing in front of a door to a house she has no recollection of driving to. The door is nondescript – wood painted white – and the porch light on outside isn’t even flickering.

This situation has happened before. She knows what will be behind the door.

Lydia takes a deep breath and closes her eyes. 

Her hand lifts slowly to press the doorbell.

There’s movement inside, she sees a light behind her closed lids and hears the door in front of her creaking open.

That’s... not right. 

Her mind is swampy and her thoughts swimming through mud but no-one should have answered the door.

Death should have visited here.

She tilts her head, lips parting.

Through the swamp she can hear a voice calling her name. It’s growing louder.

“Lydia. Lydia. What’s going on? Why are you here? Lydia, are you all right?”

She opens her eyes and blinks several times in quick succession.

She doesn’t know the house but she knows the occupant.

Deputy Parrish. Jordan Parrish. 

On the dead pool for 5 million dollars.

She frowns at him, silhouetted against the harsh light of the hallway. Alive? Lydia can’t comprehend. They’re never alive when she finds them. Why is this time different?

_No time. You have to leave._

“Jordan, you have to get out of here.” She can feel it in her bones, a slow chill spreading out from her ribcage. Her skull is starting to reverberate with a scream that’s quietly building inside her. “Please. You have to go.”

Death hasn’t been here yet. But it’s coming. 

Jordan is still standing in the doorway. He’s still there. Just standing. 

Doesn’t he understand he’s in danger?

“You know my first name?” His arms are loose by his side and his eyes, wide with surprise, are red and watery. Lydia must have woken him.

“There isn’t time. Please! We have to go. Now.” Lydia can hear her voice getting hysterical, its pitch rising. Jordan reaches out as if to comfort her or pull her inside – distract her – and she latches on to his wrist and starts dragging him down the front steps of his house to her car which is parked diagonally across the driveway. 

The drivers’ side door is still open and the engine still running as if, somehow, she’d known they’d need to make a quick getaway.

Jordan tugs back at Lydia but she’s strong, she can feel it. He’s near pleading her to go back inside with him, close the door, to just tell him what’s wrong.

But what’s wrong is his house, and the shadows that Lydia can see in the corners under the eaves and the feeling of darkness and the screaming inside her head.

She can’t say how but the next moment Jordan is buckled in the passenger seat and Lydia is reversing out of the driveway, foot pressing heavily on the accelerator. The shuddering is still there in her brain, distracting her whilst at the same time making her focus on her goal. Escape.

“Lydia, slow down.” Jordan is speaking slowly, as if Lydia is some kid holding a gun to his head and he’s trying to reason with her. She jerks her head from side to side.

“Lydia, if you won’t slow down, please, at least stop and let me take over driving. It’s not safe driving like this.” She jerks her head again.

“Lydia, I don’t want you to drive like this.” She’d shake her head again but the muscles in her neck have knotted.

“No.”

“Lydia.”

“No no no no no no no no no no no, needed to leave. We needed to. No no. Not. Safe. It-”

“Shhh, Lydia. It’s okay. Just focus on the driving and we’ll talk later.”

She can see the tension in his shoulders out the corner of her eye but she’s grateful he’s stopped trying to reason with her. Lydia knows she can drive them safely. The urge to scream has reached a plateau though and isn’t diminishing. She wants to yell so much it’s painful. She would if she were alone but she knows Jordan is already anxious, he’s got one hand tensed on the door handle and the other hovering near the hand break.

She bites her lip instead and immediately tastes blood.

It’s unpleasant, she’s never enjoyed the metallic bite to it, but it takes her mind off the pounding in her brain.

**

With every mile between Jordan’s house and the safe place she is trusting her instincts to take them, the vibrations in her brain are lessening. 

Her hands are cramping from gripping the steering wheel but she can’t will herself to ease off.

Jordan gave up trying to get her to pull over 4 miles back. He sits upright, alert, checking her mirrors for her because Lydia’s neck is taut and she can’t move her head.

They’ve been driving for almost an hour when Lydia suddenly feels her clarity return. The pounding in her skull has stopped completely.

She eases her foot off the accelerator, tilting her head slowly to the left then right.

Beside her, Jordan turns to look at her, eyes narrowed in evaluation. She takes her eyes off the road, finally, for a moment to smile at him before looking to see where they are.

She’s driven them to the top of the reserve, near the rocky clearing on the cliff face where you can sit and look out over Beacon Hills. She has an urge to go there.

One of the things she has learned about being a Banshee is that her instincts should be trusted, so she parks the car by the side of the road and turns the engine off.

She unbuckles quickly and leaves the car, starting off on the trail to the clearing, knowing that Jordan will follow after her.

When he catches up Lydia expects him to start demanding answers but he surprises her by staying silent. He matches his pace to hers, his longer legs meaning he needs to shorten his stride, but he doesn’t speak. Just looks over Lydia like one looks over a puzzle when it’s nearly done and they’re not sure they have enough pieces left to finish it.

The look makes Lydia’s face heat up and her palms tingle, so she distracts him.

“Do you believe in ghosts?” Lydia knows that ghosts don’t exist, but it’s an easy place to start the conversation she knows they need to have about Beacon Hills and its supernatural secrets. It’s also cliché enough that it doesn’t really matter what his answer is, as long as she can find a way to start them talking about the supernatural.

Jordan narrows his eyes at her and slows his pace slightly. Lydia thinks he’s probably checking her for injuries, or some sign that she isn’t alright. She can’t blame him really. She had turned up at his house at 1am in a Banshee state of mind and kidnapped him.

Oh god. She kidnapped a police officer. That can’t be good. But it isn’t important at the moment. She had to keep him safe. 

Lydia needs to get them to the rock and then find out what he knows about the fantastical side of Beacon Hills and about the dead pool list and The Benefactor.

He seems to find nothing at fault with her and Lydia gives him a smile which is half I-know-what-you-did-and-it-wasn’t-subtle and half because despite what some may think she is a nice person and she wants to put Jordan at ease.

“Ghosts, no. Other things, yes.”

“Other things?” It’s good that Jordan seems to be open minded. He’s going to need to be.

Jordan puckers his mouth while he’s thinking and Lydia let’s him take his time.

“Other things like you.”

Lydia stops walking. That was unexpected. What did he mean, _like you?_ Does he already know about Banshees? And werewolves and werecoyotes and kitsunse? And if he knew about her why was he so reluctant to leave with her tonight when she told him to? He should have known that meant Death was near.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” It’s true. She _doesn’t_ know if he knows she’s a Banshee, or if he just thinks there’s something... off about her. Perhaps she should have grabbed at his statement, told him all about her so it’d be easier for him to accept werewolves and assassins with no mouths, but being a Banshee isn’t something that comes with a telltale sign like the strength, agility and coloured eyes of a werewolf, so how could he have picked up on it? If there’s a way to do that she wants to know.

“Lydia,” he stands in front of her with his arms crossed over his chest. “When I went to that house and you were there, I said something about you showing up when there are dead bodies around. I don’t know what it means but I know it’s true. And today at the station with Meredith? She said you called her and that she was walking to you from the coast. She didn’t have a phone.” He raises an eyebrow like he’s proved her wrong and passed some big test. “So I may not believe in ghosts, but I’ve come to think I have to believe that there’s _something_... and you’re part of it.”

He has passed a test. Lydia knows now he’ll believe her about the supernatural world like she knows that 7 comes before 8.

But she needs time to think about how to explain it to him. And she still feels a slight pressure on her ribcage and a restlessness in legs that want her to make it to the clearing.

“You’re right. There is something. There are a lot of something’s, and I’m going to tell you about everything. But we need to get to the clearing first.”

“Ok.” He doesn’t even hesitate, just returns to Lydia’s side and starts walking, this time leaving Lydia to catch up.

She doesn’t know whether he went with her suggestion because he thinks she’s psychic, or because he wants to make it to the clearing so he can learn the truth.

**

It takes them barely 10 minutes to reach the clearing and Lydia has decided to start with telling Jordan the truth about her. He already thinks she’s something different so it should be easier to start there then starting with Scott and the others in the pack or pushing him in the deep end by telling him the more relevant truth about tonight – that his name is on a hit list and assassins were going to kill him.

Jordan has barely even sat down next to Lydia on the rock looking out toward the town before she starts to talk.

“I’m a Banshee.”

Jordan, who is sitting with legs stretched out in front of him toward Beacon Hills, goes completely still and Lydia has no idea what that means. Is it fear? Is he just trying to figure out what a Banshee is? Is he waiting for her to tell him more? She’s about to explain to him what that is but he speaks first.

“An omen of death.”

She’s not surprised that he knows that, most people do and it’s still about all she knows about Banshees. What she is surprised with is that he doesn’t sound sceptical, judging, scared or like he’s just realised he’s alone with a mad woman.

“Yep. That’s me. A walking, talking, screaming harbinger of death.” She’s pushing him, but his calmness is eerie to her.

Jordan’s mouth crinkles which, as Lydia has discovered tonight, means he’s thinking hard about something.

“You weren’t screaming tonight. At my place. Was that a good thing?” Lydia is again surprised by the thoughtfulness of the question.

“I felt like screaming. I felt like screaming an awful lot.” Lydia places her palms to her forehead and closes her eyes. The reverberating in her skull had stopped back in the car but she still remembers it. Hard to forget something that unpleasant.

“Why didn’t you.” Jordan is curious. Lydia can tell by the way his voice deepens.

“It wasn’t quite... right. The feeling that I had tonight. Sometimes the screaming helps me to focus it, block the other stuff out, but I knew that it wouldn’t. So I kept it in, and the further away from your house I drove, the less I felt the need to scream.” She doesn’t think her explanation makes sense but Jordan nods slowly as if he understands.

Lydia is struck by a sudden urge to tell him more. So she does.

“Also, I didn’t want to freak you out and have you jump out of my car, but I...” She sighs and starts again. “Because you’re the first person I’ve found who wasn’t already dead.”

There’s more to the story, like how she _knew_ that someone was planning on killing him tonight, how a voice in her head told her to get him out of there, how she doesn’t think she wants to let him stay alone in his house until they’ve figured out who is after him and stopped them. But she knows if she starts telling him those things they’ll end up talking about the dead pool, and Lydia knows it’s too early to tell him that.

She shifts the conversation to him.

“You’re taking this surprisingly well.” Lydia turns her head and smirks at him. She had expected some arguing by now, some _you’re crazy_ or some _are you sure you’re alright’s?_ But Jordan has just sat there and listened and asked intelligent questions.

“Well I did tell you that I believed you were something else. So all you’ve done is confirmed my suspicions and given me something to call what you are.” He smiles at her. It’s a nice smile. A friendly smile. A smile she wouldn’t mind seeing on a more permanent basis. But this is not the right conversation for a smile and in order to distract him further from asking her about why she was at his house, Lydia is going to tell him more.

“Good.” She smirks bigger. “So you’ll have no trouble when I tell you about Beacon Hill’s werewolf population. Or about the werecoyotes and the kitsunes.” 

The smile falls off his face. It may have been a little mean to spring it on him like that, but she couldn’t help it. He’d been far too stoic and accepting and Lydia felt he needed to freak out just a little, at least half of how she had freaked out when she found out about all this stuff. 

Jordan’s mouth was open and he was looking at her like she’d told him his favourite movie was a remake that shifted the entire context of the story.

Lydia smiles devilishly at him. She really shouldn’t be feeling this happy at this hour of the morning when telling someone about how they’ve only been seeing half the world. “Take your time. We’ve got all night.” 

Jordan opens and closes his mouth a few times before puckering his lips. Eventually he stops and turns to Lydia.

“Werewolves.” It’s just a word but it asks a lot. _Are werewolves real? Who in Beacon Hills is a werewolf? How could I have missed seeing this?_ All in all a big please; please tell me everything.

Lydia softens her smile and obliges.

She tells him about Scott being bitten and how he brought their group together – him and Stiles joining with Allison and Lydia and Jackson and how Danny was always on the periphery but it turned out he knew the whole time. 

About Allison being a hunter and her crazy aunt Kate who broke their code and set fire to the Hale house. He nods and tells her he read the file when Derek showed up at the station for the first time. 

So she goes on to tell him about Derek and Peter and the fight over the alpha position. She even finds herself telling Jordan about how Peter used her to bring him back to life and how she didn’t know she was a Banshee at the time and she thought she was losing her mind and she still can’t look at Peter without feeling disgust. And Jordan wraps an arm around her shoulders and pulls her close to him when she needs a minute to breathe and try not to cry after she tells him. Even though he’s the one who should feel shaky and lost finding all this stuff out.

She struggles through the stories of Erica and Boyd, stopping frequently to level her breathing and chant _don’t cry, don’t cry_ until she doesn’t feel like she will.

She tells him about how Jackson struggled with the bite and how horrible it was having him controlled by Matt and Gerard.

She tells him about Jennifer Blake being a durach and how she was the one that told Lydia she was a Banshee. About how when she was coming to terms with what she was there was a pack of Alpha’s invading Beacon Hills, trying to tear their pack apart but how there was one good thing to come of it – Scott was a True Alpha now and he was good at protecting them all.

She tells him about Kira and her mother and the army of Oni and how they lost Allison and Aiden and then Isaac and Ethan left.

And then she finally comes to the hit list. Except she can’t get the words out. Because Jordan doesn’t deserve to know that he’s being hunted for something that he doesn’t even know he is. Because Lydia is sure by now that Jordan just thinks he’s a regular human.

And it breaks Lydia’s heart to know that he’s not and she’s going to have to tell him.

**

“Does the Sheriff know?” It’s been hours, seconds, minutes – Lydia can’t tell – since she finished speaking. She laughs under her breath and rolls her eyes. Of course, the first thing Jordan does after finding out about the terrible supernatural history of Beacon Hills is to calmly ask her whether Sheriff Stilinski knows. She’s beginning to like that about him.

“Yeah, Stiles told him a while back. He used a chess set and post it notes. It was quite cute if you ignore the circumstances of why we had to tell the Sheriff.”

“Circumstances?”

“Oh just, everything really. The Alpha pack was here, and Jennifer, though we didn’t know it was her at the time, was performing these ritual sacrifices that the Sherriff was trying to understand. I’m really thankful that he knows though. It’s good having someone in his position aware.”

“Is Stiles anything supernatural?”

“No. He was possessed by a nogitsune for a while though.” Jordan quirks an eyebrow. “It’s a trickster spirit. Feeds off mayhem and chaos. It got pretty bad, Stiles wasn’t always himself. It was horrible for all of us.” She shudders and presses her fingers hard into her palms. “But he had times of awareness and he convinced his dad to take him to Eichen House. It didn’t help. But that’s how we found Malia again. And Meredith.”

“The other Banshee?” Lydia nods.

They fall silent again and Lydia is only slightly surprised to find that it’s not uncomfortable at all.

“You know Lydia, this still doesn’t explain why you were at my house.” Jordan smirks at her as if he knows she’d been hoping he’d forget about it and he’s caught her out. And she had been hoping.

Lydia thought about how to tell him that he was on a hit list of supernatural creatures. He was calm finding out about everything else, but this was different. This was about _him._

In the end the truth wins out.

“There’s a list of all the supernatural creatures in Beacon Hills and you’re on it.”

Even if it is blunt. And only half of the truth.

Jordan doesn’t hesitate at all to reply.

“But I’m not supernatural.” His voice is steady and even without werewolf hearing Lydia can sense that’s he’s telling the truth. Or at least he thinks he is.

“Are you sure?”

“Positive.” She raises an eyebrow at him. She’ll take the long way instead and see if she can pick up on something _other_ about Jordan.

“So why did you decide to come to Beacon Hills?” Lydia shrugs as she asks and looks away, as if changing topics. She’s always been good at playing people. 

Lydia knew Jordan had been a Hazardous Devises Technician with the Army before he came here. It didn’t make sense that he’d leave a position like that to join a small police force at Beacon Hills. Even if Lydia couldn’t quite picture him in the Army, and Jordan being part of the Sheriff’s department felt more right, it’s an odd career move.

But Lydia’s learnt not to judge based on appearances. Nothing is what it seems. She wasn’t. Jordan might not be either. But she gives him the benefit of the doubt. Maybe there is a non-supernatural explanation.

He pulls his knees up to under his chin and rests his head on them, crossing his arms over his legs.

“I can’t explain it really. I just... felt a pull towards here.”

The phrase confirms Lydia’s suspicions that he’s supernatural and she frowns down at her hands and slumps slightly.

Lydia refrains from looking at Jordan though, giving him time to align his feeling with what he has learnt tonight. His eyebrows draw downwards and Lydia knows he’s second guessing his reasons for coming here.

“Lydia, are you saying–, do you think the reason I felt a pull here was supernatural?”

She turns to Jordan to find him staring at her with a look on his face Lydia has seen in the mirror numerous times. A look of _when did my actions become something I don’t control_. Lydia goes for the truth again. He needs to hear it.

“Yes.”

“Am–, am _I_ supernatural? Or am I just affected by supernatural people? I don’t... I don’t understand Lydia.”

“Hey, it’s ok.” Lydia swivels so she’s facing him, legs crossed in front of her and knees almost touching his side. For the first time tonight he’s losing his calm, but Lydia wants to help him through it. 

Has to help him. 

“I don’t know for sure Jordan. Being a Banshee does not grant me the power to figure that out. But I think you are something.” His head drops heavily into his arms and Lydia can see his back rising and falling with the harshness of his breathing. She doesn’t know him well enough to know how to comfort him, so she just talks to him, telling him more about why she thinks he’s here.

“There’s a tree here in Beacon Hills called the nemeton. It’s magic.” Jordan lets out a harsh laugh. “Yeah I know, magic.” Lydia smiles. Even when crumbling under the weight of his new knowledge, it warms Lydia to see him finding humour in the situation.

“We had to do a ritual to help find Scott, Stiles and Allison's parents a while back and it re-awoke the nemeton and one of the side effects was that supernatural creatures would be drawn to Beacon Hills. So that’s why I think you’re supernatural.” She places a hand on his back. “Because you said you felt drawn here.”

She starts to remove her hand but Jordan makes a noise and pushes back into it. So Lydia keeps her hand there, unmoving, giving him her warmth.

They sit like this for a few minutes, Jordan with his face buried in his arms and Lydia with her eyes closed, feeling his back move up and down, up and down as he breaths.

Her eyes are still closed but she can feel him lift his head and straighten his back.

“Lydia.” He speaks softly and Lydia slowly opens her eyes. She’s distracted by the colour of his eyes and the faint reflection of moonlight in them.

“What you’re saying makes sense.” His irises are green-but-not-green. They remind her of the sheets currently on her bed. “But Lydia, I can’t figure out how I’d be anything but human.”

Lydia blinks. She feels suddenly drowsy. She shakes her head to clear it and her brain starts working two clicks ahead causing her next words to come out stronger than intended.

“Jordan, you’ve been extremely open minded this whole night, can you not entertain even the slightest possibility that there’s something supernatural about you? Because for most of my life I thought I was just human and I was wrong. Are you sure there’s no possibility at all?”

Talking about everything with Jordan had put her into a strange mindset where it all seemed _too much_. Too much to think about and to know and she’s only a high school student and why does she suddenly know everything there is to know about the supernatural world and why is she explaining it to someone older than her who’s seen the world and should be the one that knows _too much._

Being a Banshee scared Lydia every time she thought about it. Tonight she was doing that a lot. 

Jordan isn’t saying anything, just sitting there with his lips pressed tightly together and his eyes darting back and forth while he thinks. It means Lydia’s thoughts wonder without him to pull them back and focus them.

After her body had rejected the bite from Peter, after she knew all about werewolves and hunters and magic, she had moments when she wondered whether there was anything special about her aside from her immune system.

Lydia was quietly smug that her body had done something that Scott’s and Jackson’s hadn’t – kept her human. She spent all her free time drawing up Mendelian squares and diagrams of DNA replication to figure out the science behind why her body could have a different reaction than theirs. She was happy when she confirmed it was nothing beyond a healthy, human immune system.

And then it turned out she was a Banshee.

And no one knew anything about Banshee’s. Scott and Jackson could learn about werewolves from Derek who’d grown up in a pack. Allison had her parents to teach her hunting, and access to the Bestiary when the pack needed it. There was a lengthy chapter dedicated to werewolves and a mere page and a half about Banshee’s. Even the internet, if you knew how to properly search, could provide decent information on lycanthropy, but no reliable information on Banshees.

Lydia had no-one and nothing to learn from and it scared her.

It scared her the first time she came to after an episode to find herself in a place she’d never been before, staring at a dead and bloodied body. It’s scared her when Stiles had told her off about calling the police that one time because that’s what _normal humans_ did when they found a dead body. But she wasn’t human and apparently she was meant to call the pack. It scared her when her scientific brain couldn’t understand what she was seeing at the gas station with Kira. It scared her when Stiles and Malia crowded her and expected her to be able to just _see_ things, like her ability was something she could control.

It wasn’t. And it scared her.

And she knew what she was. Jordan had no idea, yet there his name was in black and white on the list she’d decoded. 

_Jordan Parrish 5._

Lydia had lost herself in her thoughts while Jordan had been trying to figure out where there could be a supernatural in his past. His voice drew her back to the present.

“I think,” he sounds dazed, “you might be right.”

He holds his hands out in front of him, eyebrows lifting slowly as if he’s surprised to find them shaking. They’ve been doing it for a while now but neither had noticed.

He doesn’t tell her what he realised, what element of his past or his family he is now seeing in a new light, and Lydia doesn’t push him.

“Jordan.” She reaches out to touch his cheek with the palm of her hand. “We’ll help you, ok.” When he doesn’t respond she reaches her other hand out to cup his face, gently pulling it around to face her.

“Look at me Jordan.” His eyes are downcast and glassy. Lydia moves her face closer to him and the movement finally causes him to look up and lock eyes with her. 

They’re merely an inch apart now, close enough that she can feel his breath on her lips as he exhales and she could count his eyelashes if she felt like it. But she can’t be distracted now, she _needs_ to comfort Jordan.

“I know what this is like. It’s terrifying. Finding out the world is crazy, and you’re part of what’s crazy about it. But we are in this together. The pack will help you.” His eyes widen and her gut feels punched with how much hope and desperation she can see in them. “ _I_ will be help you. I promise. Okay? I’ll be here for you.”

Lydia kisses him on the forehead and pulls him toward her so his face is fitted in the crook of her neck. She wraps her arms around him, one hand rubbing slowly up and down his back and the other resting at the nape of his neck.

She can feel his body tremble minutely as he breathes in and out. His arms are cradled between them and she feels him flex his fingers over and over and over against her stomach, brushing the underside of her breasts and wrinkling her shirt.

After a few minutes his fingers still and his breathing steadies. He pulls away from Lydia slowly, not making eye contact with her. She removes her hands from his back and places them in her own lap, looking out over Beacon Hills. A faint pink tinge is beginning to rim the sky and there are a handful of cars on the roads, the tiny yellow pinpricks of light moving silently around the town.

“Thank you.” Jordan’s still not looking at her, but his voice is heavy with emotion and Lydia knows he means it.

She lets her eyes slide over him. His brown hair tousled slightly, the plain grey t-shirt crumpled, his track pants damp and grass stained around the hems from walking through the reserve. She realises he’s not wearing shoes, only thin blue socks which must be soaked through and bitingly cold. She knows she did the right thing last night by bringing him here, but she’s sad that he’s been uncomfortable all night. She wants to drive him home and take his wet socks off and wrap him in a blanket and make him hot chocolate and let him lean his head on her shoulder.

She acknowledges her concerns for him through a fog of drowsiness. She used to worry about Jackson like that.

“Come on. I’m driving you home.” She sighs and stands up slowly, legs stiff from disuse. 

She takes a few steps backwards and lets Jordan take his time. Lydia feels exhausted, she always does after using her Banshee abilities, so she can only assume that Jordan is worse off. Ten hours ago he had no idea that he wasn’t 100% human, and Lydia knows that’s a tough truth.

But she had meant what she said to him. She planned on being there for him, helping him through it, whatever it may be. And once they know what he is, maybe they can help each other figure it all out.

Lydia would like that. 

Jordan stands up and stretches himself out. He inhales deeply once, twice, a third time, then turns to face Lydia. She gives him a warm smile and when he half smiles in return her lips and fingers tingle.

She still hasn’t told him the truth about why she was at his house – that it’s not just a list of supernatural residents, but a list of people to be killed – but there’ll be time for that later. Maybe the two of them alone at his house or maybe with the rest of the pack at the loft. Whichever he prefers.

“Let’s go.” She walks to him and takes his hand before leading them back through the reserve to her car and driving him home.

**Author's Note:**

> In case you are a spelling buff and noticed a few things, I'm Australian so I used Australian spelling.
> 
> Did I overdo the relationships tags? We only just got his first name and I didn't want to miss anything so...
> 
> visit me on [tumblr](http://whatthehellisawinchester.tumblr.com/)


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